Trapped by the Web
by SeekerOfDeath
Summary: Circumstances find Hermione locked in the time of the Founders... After months of search, she finally finds a way home, but will she want to leave the spider's web? Hermione::Salazar
1. Chapter 1

Edit Note: I am going back to fix up little things in chapters 1-4. Nothing huge has changed, just a little grammar things.Edit Note 2: Going through, there are a few minuscule things that don't exactly fit seamlessly into Rowling's books. If you notice them, cheers. I call artistic freedom over those tiny little parts. To go back and change them now that I've noticed would be time-consuming and they're not even big enough to really be a bother.

I hope you enjoy!

**Trapped by the Web**

* * *

The library was quiet, deserted. The best atmosphere, in Hermione's opinion. Granted, it did take until around midnight for the blessed silence to fall upon the dusted bookcases, but it was well worth the wait. Her candle flickered as she let out a contented sigh, her quill resting still on her paper for a moment as she closed her eyes to let it all sink in. If only the library could always be like this, she'd be in here even more frequently than she already was.

She smiled as she set ink to parchment again, deeply engrossed in her essay within minutes. If you had asked anyone at Hogwarts, they would all say the same thing. One of the only major faults that Hermione Granger possessed was her obsessive studying. She, though, made a point of ignoring this. None of them would ever understand it, the pure bliss that taking in all that knowledge was to her. It was like a drug, and she was addicted.

If any of them had been muggle-borns, maybe they could understand it a little better. For someone who had grown up being taught that magic was just a story, that it would never truly happen, Hogwarts was a fairy tale. Naturally she'd want to learn everything she could. Of course, she had been almost as addicted to her own school before getting the letter, but that was just a side note to her.

She sighed in exasperation as her writing was interrupted with a painful cramp in her hand, and she had to set down her quill as it started to shake in her grip.

"Shoot...ow..."

She whispered into the abandoned library, trying to massage out the knots with her other hand. Now, as an avid writer she was quite used to hand cramps, but these were unlike any she had ever felt. They were sharp bursts of pain, and if she didn't know better, she would almost say they were climbing up her arm. At first she pushed off the idea as insane, but soon the pain was telling her otherwise, now pounding in her every muscle. She crumpled into her chair, moaning out in pain. She glanced quickly down at her writing hand that was now pulsing in non-describable pain, and the sight that met her eyes sent a gasp out of her dry mouth. Bright as daylight on her hand, looking as if it had been burned into her skin, was the Hogwarts crest. Curiosity fought with agony for a few horrible minutes, and then, her entire world went black.

* * *

"This is entirely _your_ fault."

"My fault? As far as I can tell, you hold as much blame as I do!"

"Boys, please do try to keep your voices down. We don't know how hurt this young woman might be, and yelling will only--"

"Well, I wouldn't need to be yelling if _someone_ hadn't tried to pin this on me."

The voices were like hammers, pounding against the inside of her head, and Hermione dearly wished that they would just _shut up_. She tried to roll over, to pull her pillow over her head, or _something. _But she found her body was as heavy as lead, and unwilling to listen. She tried to open her mouth, to call out to them, or curse them, whichever came first. Her throat was dry, though, and all she found coming out was a strangled, rasping gasp.

She instantly felt hands on her, and she supposed someone was examining her. Given the circumstances, she could do nothing, but she was thankful for the silence that had reigned since she had opened her mouth. Now if only the rest of her muscles would obey her. Starting with something easy, she slowly cracked open her eyes, shivering at the feeling of the sticky sleepies clinging to her eyelashes as she slowly opened them fully. Through the time it took to allow her eyes to get used to the light, the hands on her had finished the examination, and she was now hearing whispered spells, and tingles from the resulting spell.

To say she was surprised when she took in her surroundings was an understatement. She was laying in a bed, very much familiar to that which resided in the Hospital wing, but the room was quiet different. The walls were pure white, not the homely gray they used to be. The residents, there were four of them, were also quiet different. For one, she didn't recognize a single one of them, and for another, they were dressed...Not so much oddly, but unusually. Their robes were lavished with detail, embroidery delicately gracing each of the trims. They were all staring at her, anticipation and curiosity schooled onto their features, with the exception of the man in the corner of the room, who simply looked bored.

"W-water..." She nearly croaked out, knowing that if she had questions, they would be better answered after she could speak. Unease settled darkly on her as she watched them, slowly sipping on the glass the dark haired woman in front of her had conjured up.

"You're probably very confused right now." Came a kind voice, attached to the plump, friendly looking woman that was sitting at the foot of her bed. Hermione nodded, wide eyes trying to watch all of them at once.

"Well, the half-wit over there decided that we were going to try some untested spell he made up, and it ended up with you here." Came the curt, cool voice from the corner.

"Oh, shut up Salazar! Its not like I could do it without four willing participants! And, if I have to remind you again, _you_ were one of them!"

Hermione jumped at the name, her eyes, if possible, getting even wider as she let her gaze fly over all of them. "S-salazar?" She asked unbelievingly, hoping she had heard him wrong."Y-You mean...Salazar Slytherin?"

He raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Yes."

She barely even noticed she had passed out again.

* * *

Hermione didn't want to open her eyes. If she did that, she'd see them again, and she wouldn't be able to deny it any longer. With her eyes shut, she could believe that the hands tenderly taking care of her were the hands of Madame Pomfrey's, that the angry arguing from the male voices were Harry and Draco, and that the calming voice that kept interrupting them was the reasoning voice of a one Ginny Weasley. She could pretend that she had gotten in the middle of a bad mix-up between two fighting students, and that she was laying in a bed in the hospital wing. She could pretend that she had her Potions test tomorrow, and that her four foot paper on 'Banishing Banshees' was due in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But Madame Pomfrey's hands had never felt so slender and young, and the voices in the room were most decidedly the deep timbre of two full grown men, and when had she ever known Ginny to use the word "Sweethearts"?

She lay in the bed for what seemed like hours, forcing her breathing to remain calm and normal, so that there was no observations that she was awake. Their words were soon lost to her as she succumbed to her own thoughts, and she stayed like this until a grating silence finally met her ears.

She cracked an eye open, braving what she might find in the room, hoping she was ready for it this time. A wave of relief crashed over her as she only found one figure in the room, hunched over a standing tray on the other side of the room. She may have been lost and confused, but at least now there was only one person to deal with. She was tempted to snap her eyes shut when she saw the lady moving, but forced herself to stay still, staring up at her with her own chocolate depths.

"Good morning! I was wondering when you'd wake up." A small, dainty smile flitted onto her lips as she gracefully walked over, positioning herself in a wooden stool next to her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"F-fine...I suppose." Hermione stumbled out, her throat feeling raw just from those words. She sat herself up against the headboard slowly, never breaking her eyes from the woman in front of her. She licked her lips, her body tensing just from the thought of asking what she was about to ask.

"Where am I?"

Hermione was not one whose voice usually wavered. She had prided herself on always being calm and composed, even when facing daunting tasks. Through her sixth, and part of her seventh year, she had lived through more than any person her age could ever dream of. War had taken away precious memories and experiences of her life that she could never get back, and yet, she was still Hermione Granger – Ice queen, as the younger students had started to call her during the days that war was looming on the horizon. After the war was done, and she was called in for witness on the trials of suspected spies, even then she was without a single crackle in her voice. Had just a few months of freedom, where she was back in the hands of books and study instead of battle and death turned her so easily frayed? Had the peaceful age that had settled upon the wizarding world really put her in the circumstance that her voice would crack from such an easy question as 'Where am I?'

The woman across from her, however, seemed instantly to understand. She reached forward, patting her on the knee. "We figured it would be difficult once you woke. Before I say anything, though, I would like to know. Do you know of magic?" She seemed to be picking her words carefully, and it occurred to Hermione that this woman didn't know if she was a witch or not.

"I'm not a muggle." She said, her voice slowly seeming to be getting control over itself.

"Ah, good then." Her entire demeanor seemed to relax. "I figured as much, seeing as you knew Salazar. If you could tell me what family you are from then, dear, I will arrange for you to return to your estate immediately." She was standing now, fiddling with the tray she had been at earlier, looking through various vials, labeling them, it seemed. "To answer your question, though, you are in a castle in England. I assume you are from England?" She saw the almost imperceptible nod that Hermione gave and continued. "It is still under immeasurable construction, but this," She gestured around the room, "place will soon turn out to be one of the greatest wizarding schools known to mankind." There was a definite pride in her voice and face as she talked, her eyes seemed alight at the idea.

"Hogwarts..." Hermione whispered, though she bit her tongue immediately after. The woman – Rowena, she had guessed by now – had spun around, her deep blue eyes set on Hermione's. A chill ran through her veins at the sudden gripping thought that she had no idea what to say. No idea how to explain her being there, or how she had just muttered the name of a school that wasn't even finished yet. How much would her presence here ruin in the future? She would have liked now more than ever to believe the whimsical research that people were trying to prove in her time, that any time travel accidents were truly meant to happen, but could she really afford to do that?

Her thoughts were cut short, however, by the answering voice of Rowena.

"What did you just say?"

Talk about having to make a split second decision. Hermione rung her hands in her sheet, before realizing that this would only make her situation look worse. She flattened out her hands, smoothing out the wrinkles she had caused.

"H-hogwarts." She repeated dumbly, hoping to give herself more time to think. The other lady, however, simply stood there sternly, obviously awaiting explanation. "L-look..." She started softly. "I don't know how I got here, or why... And I'm not even sure I should be saying anything, either, but I really don't know what else to do...I'm sure you're wondering how I know the name of your school, how I know Salazar..." Hermione took a deep breath, taking one last moment to pray she wasn't royally screwing up before going on. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I go to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The only thing is – I go to it in the year 1989. I was in the library, working on one of my essay's, when the crest suddenly appeared on my hand, and I was aching all over... The next thing I knew, I was here."

Silence reigned the room, and Hermione sat nervously watching Rowena, chewing on her bottom lip. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Yes, yes of course!" Rowena seemed to have turned from shocked and silent to glittering and excited in moments. "We thought you had merely messed up an apparation, and got damaged by our barriers, but this--"

Hermione felt a dash of panic run through her at Rowena's scholarly excitement, her face draining at how it nearly _glowed_ off of her.

"I'm guessing you have no idea how to send me back?"

"Send you back...Heavens, no." Her face seemed to fall, like she was forcing herself to remember that Hermione was, indeed, not at all happy about this. "What you're talking about – Time travel – Its nearly as impossible as taming a werewolf!"

"That's what I thought..." Hermione said bitterly, her mind assisting in telling her that in _her_ time, taming a werewolf simply took a dose of potion once a month.

Next to her, she could tell that Rowena was trying hard to reign in her excitement, and Hermione felt a small smile tugging at her lips at just how much the woman reminded her of herself. Lord knew how many times Hermione had killed herself while trying to hold back from figuring something out that she desperately wanted to know, but knew that she shouldn't ask. She was, after all, almost sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Oh, go on." Hermione finally sighed out. "Ask away. I just want you to know, my answers will be limited. I'm not going to risk jeopardizing anything in the future."

She almost laughed at the nearly ecstatic face in front of her, and settled herself in to what was sure to be a long bout of questioning.

* * *

Hermione sank into the large, king sized bed with an 'oomph', feeling as if she had very much earned her rest this evening. She was exhausted. She and Rowena had talked _all day_. She finally felt a bit of sympathy for whomever she had brought that horrible curse upon in her own search for knowledge in her own day, and made a pledge then and there to never do it again – If she ever got back, that is. Not liking to think about that, she pulled up the covers, snuggling into them with a contented sigh. Why couldn't the mattresses be this soft everywhere? She thought wistfully, smiling as her face sunk into the pillow. She could most definitely get used to this. Just as she was falling into the fingers of sleep, however, a loud 'bang' rudely startled her up into a sitting position. She was at the door with wand in hand in seconds, her grip tight around the slender piece of wood. Her eyes strained in the darkness, scouring the hallway for any sign of a threat. Not finding anything immediate, she relaxed slightly. She could hear shouts faintly, and see the flickering glow of spells down the gaping hole the staircases lead.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to reach the great hall, where she could clearly hear the sounds of battle from the other side of the huge, oak doors. She took a deep breath, then quickly pushed the door open, wand brandished for whatever she would find.

Frustration rolled in rather quickly at the sight, and she very nearly stamped on her wand. In front of her, like a couple of unruly schoolboys, stood Salazar and Godric, locked in a 'fiery duel'. The great hall was in shambles, but it was obvious by the looks on their faces that they didn't care the slightest bit. Of course, the looks weren't that one would normally find on two men pointing their wands on each other. No, of _course_ they wouldn't be serious. The two idiots were _smiling_, having fun, no less. Hermione was slightly bitter that she had gotten all frazzled and worried for nothing, but it soon drained away as she stood there watching them.

All the stories she had heard, read, everything in the books and tales spoke of hatred between Slytherin and Gryffindor, of how they were broken apart from a great friendship. And now, here she was, witnessing a fight between the two, but one that was obviously meant for fun. Slipping her wand into the pocket of the nightgown that Rowena had loaned her, she leaned against the door frame, watching with a small smile on her face.

At first glance, the two seemed even in power, but through observation, she soon started to deduct things from the two, a habit she had gotten into when watching people fight.

Salazar wasn't nearly as fast as Godric, but his variety of spells was definitely the larger one. He was a strategic man, while Godric was simply throwing every spell he could at him. While they were both fit, Godric seemed the more sturdy of the two, as well as the more agile.

She could tell they were starting to wear out, and she wondered just how long they had been going before she had heard them. Sweat was running down their faces, and their bodies started to sag with fatigue. Their breaths bounced off the stone walls, and eventually, they were standing still, staring straight at each other. Both were tense, waiting.

Hermione leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed upon them. It was obvious that the first to break from their stand still would be the winner. She wished she could see Salazar's face, see if it was as entwined in concentration as Godric's, but he was facing with his back to her.

It happened so quick, she didn't even see him move. Godric's wand had flicked upwards, and before she even had time to blink, a brilliant blue curse was flying across the room, accompanied by a blinding white from Salazar's.. The two curses hit home against each other, struggling still for mere seconds before splitting apart again, flying again with amazing speed.

Hermione let out a shriek, throwing herself to the ground, just barely missing a collision with the wayward spell. She could smell the slightly singed hair that fell in her hair, but thankfully it was only a few strands. She lifted herself up slowly, sitting cross legged on the ground, her curls laying haphazardly in her face.

Two surprised faces were turned her way, and a crimson red blush found itself home on her cheeks.

"U-um...Hello." She offered meekly, looking up at them as innocently as she could.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Salazar's voice was cold, and his eyes even colder as he glared at her, his carefree expression from earlier gone without a trace. She almost shivered at his cold look, before reminding herself she had seen far worse. She lifted her chin defiantly.

"Excuse me if I was surprised when it sounded like an elephant was trying to destroy everything breakable in this place." She said, lifting herself to her feet with as much dignity as one in a pink laced nightgown can.

Her words had gained a chuckle from Godric, but only a cold stare from Salazar. She simply glared back, then rolled her eyes and looked away. She shifted on her feet, then turned back to look at them. "Why were you dueling, anyways?"

"Rights."

Godric's simple answer confused her, and she blinked. "Excuse me?"

"To who gets the tower for their part of the school. We haven't been able to declare a winner for days now."

Hermione just stared unbelievingly. They were that childish? Men.

"So, you fight over it? Why can't you just...Flip a knut or something?"

The looks she retrieved from both of them could have curdled cheese, she thought, and she chuckled a little, then cleared her throat.

"Right, well... You two have fun, then!" She knew she sounded like an idiot as she spun on her heel and dashed from the room, but she didn't very much care. Right now, all she wanted was that warm, comfortable bed again.


	2. Chapter 2

Never before in her life had Hermione felt so utterly frustrated with a library. Never, it was a proven fact, a library could hold no sin against Hermione Granger – It was simply not done. They would always be at the top of her list, the best place to run and the first she would go to if she needed comforting or alone time.

But then again, she had never been in a library like this.

It was amazing that it could be so alike to the one that she had grown accustomed to, and yet be so completely and absolutely _different_. With an aggravated sigh, she practically threw down the book in her hands, stretching herself out of her uncomfortable position and glaring accusingly at the tomes around her.

"I have just come across a newfound respect for _organization_." She mumbled to herself, standing up to work out the crick in her back, sparing the library one last glare for good measure. Most of the books weren't even on the bookcases, for Merlin's sake! Piles of them were strewn around her feet, balancing precariously atop one another, with absolutely no semblance of order. 'A beater's bible' was placed on top of the open pages of 'Numerology and G_ramatica_which was right next to an unfinished version of _Moste__ Ponte Potions'_ and '_Hogwarts, a History'_, the latter having only about a chapter written.

It had been the first book to catch her eye, but her curiosity had dimmed when she realized it was no different from the one she had read so many times over her years at Hogwarts, and why would it be? Still, she had found herself sitting down on the floor (there were no chairs as of yet) and flipping through the few pages it had anyways.

It was about midday now, and her search was just a fruitless now as it was when she had walked into the library. But, if she was anything, it was stubborn. So, with one last stretch, she started navigating her way across the floor, to find another pile she could search through. Surely she would eventually find something that might hint on how to get her back to her own time.

Picking up her foot, she stepped over a rather tall stack of books, on her tiptoes to avoid knocking it over as she promised herself she would at least make a walkway by the time she left here. Just as she was bringing her other leg over her obstacle, a silky voice behind her spoke, causing her to let out a squeak of surprise and lose her balance, sending her and the pile toppling to the floor.

"Oww..." She groaned, rubbing her thigh where a rather large book had gotten caught between it and the floor. After pushing herself up enough to where she could sit, she glared up at the man behind her with a smoky glare.

"Do you _have_ to do that?" She huffed, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't at home, and that it wasn't Harry and Ron behind her playing another joke. Her hand shot up to her mouth when she saw Salazar glaring down at her, unimpressed.

"Ah-well- I didn't mean- I just-"

"As much as I would enjoy you prattling on, I have much better things to do. So hurry up."

She frowned at the harsh commands, standing up and brushing off the dust from her skirt that seemed to have accumulated in instants. "Hurry up and what?" She asked hesitantly, getting the feeling that he was referring to what he had said when he startled her, which she had missed in her surprise.

He scowled with distaste, a haughty look schooled onto his features.

"S-sorry, I missed it the first time." She added warily, peering up at him.

"Get to the great hall, the others want to talk to you."

"About what?" She asked innocently, following after him as he started to leave the library, the books parting in front of him. She blinked as the first pile had moved, staying close behind him so that she could walk past before the books rearranged themselves, vaugly noticing he had not answered her. "How do you do that? They didn't move for me. Are you using a spell? Could you teach it to me? It is quite annoying to – oof!"

She stumbled back, having accidentally bumped into him when he stopped without a warning in front of her.

"You, Ms Granger, will keep your mouth shut for the entirety of this trip, do you understand?"

She could hear the annoyance clear in his voice, and despite her instinctual response to refuse, she nodded.

Seemingly satisfied, he turned around again, continuing his trek to the front of the library.

"But really, I would appreciate it if you could teach-"

Her sentence cut off as she found herself pushed against a bookshelf, angry black eyes glaring into her own, flaring with life. His arm was pushing against the top of her shoulders, keeping her still, his wand pointed straight at her neck.

"Not. Another. Word."

He hissed out, the tone on his voice making her shiver slightly. She was more disturbed at the fact that she hadn't had time to react, more-so than she was that he actually attacked her. Having been acclimated to this type of violent behavior for some time now, she had somewhat expected it. No, what worried her the most is that she barely even had time to blink before she was pinned, something that hadn't happened since before the war.

"Do you understand me?"

Oh yes, she was supposed to respond, wasn't she? Clearing her throat to take away the sudden lump there, she met his eyes.

"It was only a question."

The sound he made then could have only been described as an minimalistic growl, the impatient look on his face growing into one of cool fury. She coughed a little, speaking quickly with the hope that maybe he wouldn't hex her.

"But yeah, I think I understand..."

Relief flooded through her as he stepped back, sliding down a little so her feet touched the ground fully, instead of just her toes.

"Impertinent fool." He snapped, twirling around to walk again.

The rest of the journey out of the library was like a hopscotch game, as the books were conveniently replacing themselves much faster than before.

* * *

"What do you suppose is taking them so long?" Gryffindor asked, twirling a quill in his hand, his booted feet placed on the table in front of him.

"Perhaps they got lost." Helga put in cheerfully, looking up from her knitting just in time to see Godric rolling his eyes at her comment. "You never know." She said with a shrug, her eyes falling back down. "He could have gotten distracted and went down the wrong corridor."

"Your lack of trust in my in my abilities astound me, Helga. Surely I would be able to find the way around my own castle?" Slytherin put in smoothly, walking up and taking a seat next to Rowena, who was sitting with her head buried in a book, as usual.

"So where's the girl, Salazar, you said she was coming. Or did you lose her on the way here?" Godric asked, laughing at bit at his own words.

"Very entertaining." Came the sarcastic reply. "Is she now one of my possessions to 'lose'?"

A rich, full laughter met his ears. "Sure, why not. But really, where is she?"

Salazar shrugged, waving a dismissive hand towards the doorway. "Coming."

"Disregarding those with shorter legs than you again, were you?" Rowena mumbled, not even looking up from the pages her eyes were glued to.

Her answer came in the form of a slightly gasping Hermione, who looked tired and altogether unhappy.

"I don't see why you bothered to try and keep up with him." Godric said with a laugh, his handsome face broken out in a smile. Hermione sent him a small grin, sitting down at the end of the small table that was placed there.

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

"Well, Rowena here informed us about your, ahem, 'situation', and we were just wondering what your intentions are from here on out."

Hermione blinked over at the founder of her house, her face carefully blank. "My...intentions?"

"What you're planning to do now, where you're going to go, you know."

"Y-you mean I can't stay here?" She asked, a slight bit of panic entering her voice.

"We surely don't want you here. We have a school to make, we don't need _children_ running around under out feet."

Hermione ignored Salazar's high-handed remark, fixing her eyes on Rowena, who was just watching the scene quietly, then at Helga, who was giving her a pitying look.

"But-But...You were the ones that brought me here!" She spluttered out, and the four of them (or should she say three? She could hardly include Salazar) got the appropriate guilty look on their faces.

"And where am I supposed to find information about it if not here? I don't exactly know where any libraries are, or where I would stay, or how-"

"Quit your ramblings, woman. I thought I made it clear they are unwanted."

"Well what do you expect me to do!" She snapped back, her worry and panic leading her past the point of being apprehensive of what she was saying. "Should I just stand here and say, 'Oh yes, that's fine, kick me out of the only place I know, I'll just go live in a box by the creek in the forbidden forest!' Oh god, I'm so screwed." She moaned out helplessly, sinking back into the chair, bringing her hands up to cover the eyes that were fast filling with frustrated tears.

"Oh now, come, dearie, there's no way we would make you do that." Came a comforting voice from her right, and a few moments later she felt slightly pudgy hands patting her softly on the back, running in soothing circles.

"Yes there is. She's not staying here."

"Oh do stop being so mean, Salazar. Perhaps we could simply help her get back, instead of abandoning her."

"She's not a puppy to bring in from the rain. We don't need her here. Let her figure out her own problems."

"Salazar Slytherin!" Helga admonished, and Hermione sunk her head further into her hands in embarrassment. "That's enough of that! Come on now dearie, I'll take you to my rooms and we can get you settled in. Rowena? If you would accompany us?"

As the three of them walked out of the great hall, she heard Godric's booming laugh once more, along with admission of 'You've got three women against you, Sal, stop throwing a hissy fit.'

She fought in a laugh, managing a watery giggle.

"He really is rather a lot to handle, isn't he?" Rowena said with a bit of a smile. "He's really not that bad, just don't pay mind to him when he's in one of his 'moods'."

"Is he _always_ in one of his 'moods'?" Hermione asked back wearily, staring around at the unnervingly empty corridors. It really wasn't the same all empty the way it was. She was so used to the comforting pictures and homely rooms of Hogwarts, that seeing it as it was now gave it a slightly dead feeling.

If the founders were to see the way that their school was in the future, how would they act? She was sure that the only feeling _she_ would feel was pride. At being able to create such an amazing place from these dreary walls and dull grounds.

Helga's sweet laugh interrupted her internal musings. "Oh, not always. He can be quiet sweet sometimes, when he's in a particularly good mood. Of course, Godric never lets him forget it afterwards, so he tends to not do that so often."

"So where are we going?"

"My rooms, of course. We're going to fix you up."

Catching the look on Rowena's face, she blinked. "Fix...me up?"

"Yes, yes! We can't have you running around in that all the time, now can we?" Helga said happily, motioning to Hermione's school robes.

"Uh...Whats wrong with them?"

"Why dearie! They're just so, so very -drab-."

Hermione's face fell as she realized just what she had been pulled into, and looked over at Rowena for help, who merely shrugged, giving her a sympathetic smile.

"Yes, me and Rowena will have you decent in no time."

"Actually, I was planning on--"

"Nonsense, nonsense, you can do all that boring stuff later!" She interrupted happily, latching her arms with both Rowena's and Hermione's, pulling them both off towards her rooms.

* * *

"She's not that bad."

"She's an irritating little child is what she is."

"Oh come on now, you can't hate her yet. At least give the girl a chance."

Godric and Salazar were still sitting in the Great Hall, the conversation civil now that Slytherin seemed to accept the fact that the girl was indeed staying. Well, as civil as any conversation with him _could_ be.

"I did, she's ruined it."

Godric laughed. "Already? What did she do, then?"

"Talked incessantly." He replied shortly.

"So, more than five words in an hour, then?"

Salazar snarled over at his companion, standing up.

"Where are ya going?"

"Away from you."

Godric rolled his eyes. "Enjoy yourself, then. The usual tonight?"

With a curt nod, Salazar walked over to the doors, swooshing out of them while murmuring 'I'll beat you this time'.

Godric watched him go with a half smile on his face, bringing a hand up to rifle through the short hairs that were nearly perfectly groomed on his face. "Meh, you old codger. You just don't like her because she's wearing my colors." He chuckled a bit, swinging his feet down to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

"Save me."

Godric turned around to face the figure that had just run into the classroom, a smile twitching onto his lips. "You look dashing."

"I _look_ like a giant red turnip!" Hermione snapped back, her hands clutching at the fabric of the offending fabric that covered her. She had just managed to sneak away from Helga, who was perfectly happy with dressing her up as a doll, and had gone into the first classroom she had seen, hoping it to be empty. "And stop laughing at me!" She looked away a bit, mumbling. "It doesn't even fit."

Indeed, the dress most definitely did _not_ fit. She was wrapped in what she supposed was an impostor of the beautiful almost-renaissance style dresses that the others had been wearing. Its arms were poofy and short, elastic closing like a horrible child's dress, and the bodice was at least two sizes large for her, only covering thanks to the cloth that ran over her shoulders. She didn't even want to -look- at the bottom of the dress, which spiraled out in large blossoms of red, each ruffle looking like it was a beach ball trying to mesh itself into her legs. When she let go of the pieces of it that she had in her hands, if fell the rest of the way to the ground, leading a good four inches behind her.

"You could warned me that she was so...so...so..."

"Eccentric about clothing?" He put in with poorly masked mirth.

"Eccentric might be a bit under-exaggerated." Hermione recovered from her embarrassment quickly, crossing the room to sit on top of one of the desks, feeling perfectly comfortable around Godric. "What are you doing in here?" She asked, looking around. Nothing overly special seemed to be in the room with them, it was just like all the others she had seen so far.

"Planning." He answered with a large gesture. "About what this should be." He turned, so that he was facing the girth of the room, instead of her, and placed one hand under his chin, propping up his elbow with another arm across his waist. "You see, I think each classroom has a good potential for working for different classrooms. The lighting, the area in the castle, the warmth, each factor could greatly change the learning experience for magic. This room," He smiled, nodding a bit as he turned back to her. "looks like it would be great for Charms. My favorite subject, by the way." He finished with a wink.

Laughing at the eccentric way he talked, she pushed herself further onto the desk, crossing her legs. "Does it now? I rather think...Hm, maybe a storage space would be better."

"Storage, huh? Maybe I should go track down the others and ask their opinion? I hear Helga is quite good at deciding these things..."

"Then again," She added hastily, "Charms would be nice."

"S'what I thought."

Hermione laughed at that, rocking back a little. "You know, you remind me a lot of this friend I have, back in the future. He has red hair, too, but he's quite a bit more stupid. He's in Gryffindor, as well."

She caught his puzzled expression just as he started to talk, and realized what he was going to ask before he did.

"In 'Gryffindor'?"

"Yeah, its how you...distinguish the students, sorta. Each of you have a "house" and you, or rather, your predecessors, look over the group of students in that house. There are four houses, naturally, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."

"Yes, I realized you were wearing the colors that I usually have on my robes. I figured there might have been something like that, but why would we need different houses? We all work together, what would the point be to separate everything like that?"

Hermione smiled faintly, and shook her head. "Do you think you could walk me to the kitchens? I'm getting a bit hungry, I think I might whip myself up a sandwich."

"You're awfully horrible at changing the subject."

"Subtly never was my strong point." She jumped off the desk, and her skirts pulled at the motion, pooling around her feet before causing her to lurch forward before she regained her lost balance, with the help of flailing arms.

"Allow me."

As she looked up, she found Godric's wand pointing at her, and a warm tingle suffused her body, and she felt the dress around her changing as she stood there.

"What are you—" She stopped her sentence as she looked down, gasping lightly. Around her was a tight bodice of the darkest red, trimmed in the lightest of gold, making it look nearly silver. The bodice was short, ending right under her breast, and fanning out the soft silk that was now surrounding her gently, falling just right so it would graze the ground. It, also, had linings of soft oranges and golds, making it shimmer as the light hit it.

"Its….wow…" She blinked a few times, then looked up at him playfully. "You have an amazing fashion sense, wherever did you get it? Perhaps you should go to a tailors and apply there."

"Yes, yes, very amusing. Now, the kitchens?" He held out an arm to her, and she smiled, feeling like she was indulging in a fairy tale story as she placed her hand atop his and allowed herself to the be led out of the room.

"Just don't let me be kidnapped again."

"Last I checked, Helga was the one who _saved_ you, wasn't it? From being thrown out by the big mean monster?"

"Yes, but that was before she insisted on playing 'dress up Hermione Granger'. Before I found you, I was contemplating just how beneficial it might have been to stick with Slytherin instead of her."

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged." A voice said slowly, from right behind them. "If you would like."

Hermione spun around, eyes widening slightly, then she smiled. "Good afternoon, Salazar. We were just taking a trip to the kitchens." She said lightly, not finding his presence half as bad as she had earlier that day.

"I do believe that was an invitation, Salazar." Godric put in with a slight nod of his head.

"I have much better use of my time than to go gallivanting around with the likes of you two."

Godric coughed then, the sudden hack being an obviously concealed bark of laughter.

"Is something amusing to you?" The impatience that laced his voice nearly cut at the air, and Hermione found herself snickering as Godric's face fell into one of complete innocence.

"Amusing? Of course not, simply a cough. I do believe I might be coming down with something."

An eyebrow rose up, and Salazar sneered at the other. "Perhaps a day in bed would suffice to make you feel better, my dear friend, surely walking about the drafty castle is much too stressful for one coming down with a cold." Hermione had to fight from rolling her eyes at the dismissive tone in his voice, thinking silently that anyone who would really listen to something like that would be--

"Hm, perhaps you're right."

She turned her head towards Gryffindor, an astonished look on her face.

"Then, surely you would be kind enough to escort our guest to the kitchens whilst I retire to my rooms, I would not want such a lady running around on her own, would you?"

He dropped Hermione's arm, then, added another cough for good measure, and walked from the hallway, sending a discreet wink her way. She rolled her eyes, turning towards Slytherin, who was standing there sending silent glares in the direction Gryffindor had just gone.

"I'll see you later, th-"

"Come on." He interrupted her gruffly, turning to stalk down the hallway, walking just a little in front of her, his long strides leaving her behind when she did start to walk.

"I do know where the kitchen is, you know. You don't need to show me."

Silence was her answer, and she frowned, fighting from rolling her eyes again as she walked. She didn't see why Godric would stick her with him anyways, it should have been obvious that the two didn't like the company of the other! She sighed, realizing the boyish taunt that Godric had given Slytherin. Surely, if he found out that Salazar didn't walk her, he probably wouldn't let him forget that he had been 'ungentlemanly.'

If she had to be completely truthful with herself, he really wasn't that bad when he wasn't talking, or jibing at her, or glaring, or... Well, it wasn't that bad when he was walking ahead of her pretending she didn't exist. It at least gave her some time to think. She started humming softly, letting her mind wander away from the corridor, back to the library where she had been when she had first felt the pain of the spell that landed her here.

Rowena had told her the day before that the spell was a malfunction of a complicated charm that they had been using to change the roof of the Great Hall. The four of them had been in that main room, with a complex magic circle around them, and before they even had time to finish their incantation, according to Rowena, she just 'popped' up. It wasn't much to go by, really. There was no connection in the locations, that was for sure, and it was most definitely not a clash of their magics meeting, like that poor woman she had read about in _"Magical Maladies"_ who ended up with four ears after the accident. For one, that had at least been in the same time era, just a different location, and another, Hermione hadn't even been using magic. Logically speaking, the only way that it could have happened was some opposing force against the founder's magic, which made the spell go wary, but that still left the question of why _she_ had been the one targeted.

Her eyes were trained on the ground, tracing the lines of the bricks under her feet as she thought. The never changing gray was a good background to her mind's eye, leaving a dull landscape for her to wander through, nothing on it the slightest bit distracting. So, when she saw a flash of black robe right in her line of sight, her head shot up, just with enough time to see a scowling face before her bum hit the floor.

She had run into him. _Again._

"Perhaps if you were to look where you were walking, you would not be so prone in running into me." He said smoothly, acid lacing his voice as he gazed down at her with disinterest.

"Yes, well, perhaps if you didn't always have to walk right in front of me instead of next to me like a normal person, I wouldn't have to worry about running into you, would I?" She shot back, standing herself up quickly, telling herself in the back of her mind that she was falling down way too many times in front of this man.

"Do not presume to talk to me in such a manner, I am-"

"You talk to me in just the same manner, so isn't it only fair if I show the same hospitality to you?"

"Things may be different in your time, Ms Granger, but allow me to remind you," He stepped to the side, grabbing a recess in the stone wall in front of him and yanking, revealing a large kitchen, complete with three house elves, "That in this time, young ladies show the respect deserved of their hosts."

"Its a rather good thing I'm not from this time then, don't you think?" She asked as she stepped by him, rebelliously grabbing the edge of the door as she did, closing it behind her. The elves were instantly on her.

"Welcome, Misses! How can Barli help Misses? Tea? Cakes? Barli has lovely roasted chicken or-- Is the Misses ok?"

Hermione looked up at him from where she was leaning against the doorway, and started laughing to herself. "I half expected him to come bursting through the door and hex me!" She said a little breathlessly, an embarrassed flush crossing her face at the thought.

"Oh, Master Slytherin would never hurt the Misses! Oh, no, no, the Master Slytherin is a most gracious host. Would the Misses like something?"

Smiling at the elves' hopeful gaze, she nodded. "Do you think you could make me a sandwich then, Barli?"

* * *

She was walking back from the library when she heard the shout, and it had originally surprised her so much she had dropped the few books she had cradled in her arms. It had taken a few moments before she connected the sounds to the fight again, and she gathered her books back up with a shake of her head.

"Still can't see why they can't just flip a bloody knut." She mumbled, and started retracing her steps the opposite way, though she turned before she reached the library hallway.

Before she opened the doors to the Great Hall, she cast a quick protective charm on herself, remembering all too well the close call from the night before.

She stayed leaning against the doorway, watching with bright eyes as the two of them dueled. Her breath would catch every so often, her own nerves tingling as she tried to anticipate what they would do. She had never been so entrapped by a fight before, she usually found them boring and stupid, for unruly schoolboys who didn't know when to grow up, but when these to fought...It was just simply amazing.

She had never before seen anything that had encompassed her attention so fully, and she quickly decided it wasn't the spells, or the fast movements, or the impressive way the two held their bodies, but the actual downright _feel_ of it.

The tension between the two crackled in the air, and she could feel the unleashed magic that they were urging through their wands even before the spell was cast. Being as focused on the fight as she was, she nearly jumped out of her skin when they started talking.

"So how was your walk today, old fellow?" Godric called out, jumping to the side as a streak of yellow flew past him.

"You know full well the answer to that." Came the dissatisfied reply, accompanied by a flurry of curses that Hermione didn't even have time to figure out what they were.

"She's got a bit of a spirit on her, doesn't she?"

"I have never seen a more disrespectful youth in my life."

She backed up a step when she realized that they were talking about her, the conversation instantly making her feel as if she was watching something that wasn't for her eyes.

"You sound like an old man, Salazar, a 'youth', is she? You surely can't hold any more than ten years over her, if even that!"

It was then she turned away, quietly closing the door after her.

As she was walking, she heard a short bark of victorious laughter, and then a string of angry curses, her mind easily sorting out the voices. She passed by the stairs that led down to the dungeons on her way back to her rooms, and she found herself pausing, resting her fingertips on the banister.

"Who would have thought he didn't want you..." She mumbled, her eyes lingering on the dark recess of the stairs a few moments longer before she shook herself out of it and continued on her way.

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	4. Chapter 4

Hermione woke that morning to a blackness that could nearly rival the night. She walked over to the curtains that covered her window, but they allowed no more light to shine through open than they did closed. Rumbling black clouds covered all she could see out in the Hogwarts grounds, and she sighed in irritation at the dreary weather. As she looked outside, she felt an urge to crawl back under the warm duvet, back into the spot of warmth her body had been occupying moments before. As she thought of the mess of a library she would be going back to yet again today, the urge intensified.

A sigh of resignation broke the silence in the room as she scuffled over to where she had dropped her clothes yesterday, crinkling her nose as she looked at the garment. Wearing her school robes for more than a day had felt alright, seeing as the elves would bring it clean to her every morning. But, with the beautiful dress that Godric had transfigured for her, it made her feel awkward. A few moments of looking at the folded dress, and she huffed in annoyance at her own behavior. It wasn't like she was trying to impress anybody, anyways. She grabbed the dress, throwing it over her head. After the cloth had fallen into place, she pulled her hair back into a messy braid, not even bothering to brush it. Perhaps to emphasize, at least to herself, that she didn't care how she looked.

As she made her way to the door, she paused, turning her head to look into the gilded mirror that was sitting against her wall. Her hair was a mess, as always, a few strands falling in front of her face, and the part wasn't even in the middle. Her face had a red spot where she had been sleeping on her hand, and her eyes were still half lidded from sleepiness. She scrunched up her nose, making a face and sticking out her tongue at her reflection, then spun around, continuing out the door.

* * *

The sound of the storm followed Hermione throughout the castle, the steady pellet of raindrops tormenting her through her daily visit of the library, and constantly knocking against the bricks as she transcended the corridors. The progression of the day did nothing to quell the hardy storm, and late into the afternoon, the rumbles of her stomach started to mix in with those in the skies.

The hallways were quiet with the exception of the storm, and it gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach. She had never walked through these halls without a steady chatter of students and the continuous pounding of hurried footsteps from those running late. She shook her head, trying to will away the discomfort she got whenever she thought about just where she was. More like, just -when- she was.

Her arrival at the doors to the great hall interrupted her thoughts, and she willingly left the melancholy train of thoughts to push open the heavy wood doors and take a step forward...Into at least 4 inches of water. Her clothes were quickly soaked through by the torrent of water coming down on her, and she had to squint her eyes to see through the storm where the four 'brilliant' founders of Hogwarts were standing.

She trudged through the slightly flooded hall, until she was right next to where the four of them were standing in a circle, all bickering amongst each other. She couldn't even hear their words through the din filling the hall, but it was painfully obvious they had no idea how to stop the rain. She tilted her head upwards, towards what seemed to be an unending sky, interrupted only by an occasional rafter. It made a smile creep onto her face as she realized what they had been doing.

Charming the ceiling. In the middle of a storm. She started giggling, unable to help her amusement at the serious lack in foresight they had had. When she dropped her head down again to glance towards the others, she found Salazar glaring at her as if she was the cause of all this. She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. He couldn't have heard her, could he? She wasn't even able to tell what the others were saying, and they were yelling.

Salazar was walking towards her now, and she squashed the childish urge to turn around and run away, her chin tipping up in a defiant, proud manner. That is, until she realized that she must look like Draco Malfoy, and she lowered her head to a normal level.

"I assume by your _amusement_ you are aware of how to fix this?" She jumped as he hissed the question into her ear, berating herself for getting spooked even though she knew he was there. She bit her lip as she looked at Salazar, fighting in another laugh at the look on his face. It was obvious that he was angry and frustrated, and it took her a few moments to answer with a shake of her head.

"How would I know how to charm the ceiling?" She called back defiantly, eyes glittering as they met his. To her disdain, to carry the sound, her voice had to be at a scream, while he had merely whispered in her ear. She frowned in annoyance at the revelation. It was as if sound itself melded to the wishes of Salazar Slytherin.

"Do not play with me, woman!" He snarled, taking a threatening step forward. Hermione frowned even deeper at this, then spun around, her wet mess of a braid making a 'smack' on his face before she walked briskly back outside of the great hall.

* * *

Godric found her later sitting on one of the turrets over the northwest tower. He pushed the heavy door open, struggling against the winds and weather, and stepped out onto the stones, the water seeping into his boots. He walked over to where she was, her feet curled into herself, and her arms wrapped around her knees. Leaning on the wall, he sent her a half-smile.

"You know its dangerous to be out here during a storm, especially on a tower."

He was slightly surprised when she glowered over at him, then spun her head back around to glare into the distance. What she was seeing, he didn't know. He, himself, could barely see past the length of his arm due to the heavy downpour; her vision seemed to be fixed on something entirely separate from anything that anyone who didn't have access into her mind could see. Shrugging, he leaned against the grove in the wall next to her, and pulled his cloak closer around him.

For a while, they just stood there, the pelting rain driving down onto them. He could see red dots on Hermione's pale skin from the force of the drops, and wondered just how long she had been out there. He had been soaked the moment he had stepped out onto the tower, and he only figured she could be a human fountain by now if she were to walk into the castle. He turned his head, gazing at her profile, simply thinking, until she turned to him, obviously disconcerted by his stare.

"You know you could just cast a repelling charm, right?" She asked, relatively calmly for the agitated state she was in.

"You don't seem to be using one." He answered with a widening smile, and she rolled her eyes, turning once again.

"I like getting wet." She answered shortly, and he could distantly hear a rattle to her voice. Glancing her over, he found she was shivering fiercely, her grip around her knees tightening in an effort not to show it.

"You'll catch cold like that. _I'm _already freezing, and I've most definitely been out here a shorter period of time than you have. I'll have to ask to escort you in, Hermione. I would hate for you to be once again bound to the hospital wing."

"I'm fine. If I am cold, I'll take care of it myself."

"Pride is only a helpful attribute, Ms Granger, when you know when to reign it in."

She was looking him in the eye now, her expression thoughtful and her chin high. He inclined his head slightly, holding out a hand to her. Frowning, she stared at it for a few moments before standing herself up and walking past him into the tower.

Chuckling, he followed her in, a whispered charm leaving them both bone dry by the time he had shut the door behind them.

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	5. Chapter 5

Well hello everybody. Do you remember me? I do believe we've met once or twice. Though it could be a trick of the light. . .

But in all seriousness. . . Goodness has it been a while! I could lax on about all the things that have been distracting me and keeping me busy, but that sounds entirely too close to an excuse, and I've made enough of those at the beginnings of my other chapters. (This does seem to happen a lot, doesn't it?)

I know I have nothing like a constant updating style, (has it really been 2 YEARS?) but I love all of you who have stuck with me so far. I'm dreadfully sorry it's taken me so long, but hopefully I won't ever make it stretch that far again.

I'm finishing up my last year of high school now, and starting college at the same time. So, while my schedule has been a bit busy, I most definitely want to make room for this little baby agian. I feel oh so guilty for abandoning it for so long.

If you're still reading and keeping up with me, cheers! Reading all of your comments while I was out of tandem made my heartstring twitch with guilt with each and every one.

I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and thank you all for all of the support you've given this absent author!

* * *

Hermione looked down at the book she was reading in consternation, absolutely unable to concentrate. It had been nearly three months now since she had 'fallen' into this time, and it seemed like nothing was going to go her way. Every day was the same thing – Get up, re-organize, read, then the work of dragging herself off to bed after a fruitless and frustrating day. 

The library she had turned into her makeshift home was looking a little bit better, but she had hardly made enough progress to make herself feel better about any of this. It was one of her biggest faults – She was horrible at working in a mess. Every time she tried to settle herself down with a book that might be helpful in figuring out just what had happened to her, she kept thinking of another one that might be hiding in a dusty corner, its pages folding and gathering mold as she sat ignoring it. And so she would clean. And the entire time that she alphabetized and dusted, she felt the sinking feeling that book knowledge would not help her was growing in a pit in her stomach. Every day that passed made her studious faith diminish little by little. She had sat down with Godric at the beginning, trying to get every detail she could out of the situation as she could. Unfortunately, that conversation ended in a dead end as well, neither of them being able to figure out anything odd with what had happened aside from her sudden appearance.

She had been recently hiding away from the founders themselves as much as possible, too. They generally kept out of what she had come to think of as 'her' library, preoccupied by much bigger and better things. Rowena joined her a few times during the beginning, but she was often dragged off just shortly after she had begun rearranging shelves with Hermione. Aside from the fact that each of them seemed to hold a certain air of fantasy in her mind, she just felt uncomfortable around them. It wasn't every day you met up with wizarding legend, after all. It had taken a few weeks for it to really sink in. In the back of her mind, it had all been a weird dream, or a spell that held her daydreaming somewhere that would eventually fade away.

But every night that she woke to the bangs and shouts from the great hall, and every time she had to filch breakfast from the kitchens because the ceiling was still pouring rain on the stones, the reality of it all seemed to harden in her mind.

You could probably say she was in a certain state of shock now, really. Her entire existence here just seemed so fragile, and having had time to reflect on all the things that she could mess up here. . . Being around people that she could influence just made her fingers run cold. A single word could change the future if she wasn't careful. She hardly knew if she hadn't already fumbled things up already. The thought of any of her 'life' in her own time twisting or being unreal was uncanny, and gave her shivers and horrid nightmares once the sun went down. Hermione bit her lip as she looked down at the book in her hands, not even able to read the cover very well. It was faded and worn and it just made the frustration that was threatening to strangle her build. She hardly even liked looking around the library anymore. It was like working for hours to clean a spot out of the floor tiles only to stand up and watch another appear a few feet away from you.

She ran a hand through her ragged hair, letting out a huff and a sigh of breath. She needed to relax, she really did. She felt stretched thin and stressed, and it was hardly helping her situation any. The silence in the place was oppressive, and she found herself longing constantly to hear – Somebody. Anybody. She could almost welcome Draco's horrid drawling at this point.

Another sigh escaped her lips, and she fought an annoyed snigger at the thought of how old and whiny she sounded to herself. Standing up slowly, she placed the tome in her hands down, walking out of the library without a second glance. She really did need away from it at this point, and hanging around staring at a page she couldn't read wasn't going to help her any.

She found herself wandering aimlessly through the halls, trying to recall in her head how every corridor she passed was supposed to look. There were only a small number she really remembered that well. Wanting to find an area she could link in her mind easily, her feet took her to one place she would never have trouble remembering.

She blinked a few moments at the empty hole in the wall that would be someday covered by a painting of a very well-endowed shrill lady. She felt the corners of her lips tugging as she stepped through, looking around her common room with an awkward feeling in her chest. It was empty, of course. She hadn't expected anything else. The cobwebs hanging in the corners and the draft coming from the cracked window made her heart twang, though, in a way she hadn't known it could. She let herself sink to the floor, her legs curled next to her, and buried her head in her hands.

"Homesick. You silly girl, this doesn't help anything." She muttered to herself, rubbing her face briskly and trying to gather herself together. It felt like she was going crazy. She could imagine this place how it should be. The fire crackling and popping behind the grates, a pen whispering over a scroll from some corner table, chattering coming from the sofas. . . Footsteps walking calmly and assuredly down the dormitory stairs-

Her head jerked up. Those steps were certainly not in her imagination. She was on her feet with a wand drawn long before the shadow made an appearance into the light, her frayed nerves jumping and quivering in anticipation.

There was a tense silence between her and the figure, until Hermione's arm dropped and her face flushed, feeling incredibly stupid and awkward. Her eyes were wide as she looked up into the harsh face of Slytherin, feeling rather struck dumb simply standing there staring at the way his eyebrow really did look rather thin when he curved it above his eye like that-

"While I'm sure my heart pounds for your sorrow, you are hardly welcome here."

Hermione jumped, flushing more as she realized he had been privy to her show earlier, and she felt her hand clench in a fist around the wand that she hadn't put away.

"Well do excuse me for interrupting you!" She snapped, feeling harassed and annoyed and- She let out a frustrated growl, both at Salazar's highhanded attitude and her own haphazard mental state at the moment. She contemplated spinning on her heel to walk away, but a fierce feeling of protective belonging rooted her to her spot. This was _her_ home, darn him!

He simply stood there, his arms crossed over his chest and a sneer covering his face as he obviously waited for her to flee his presence, just like she had every other time. She felt a jolt of excitement at the look of indignant surprise that crossed his cool features as she crossed her arms as well, mockingly imitating his stance.

She didn't exactly know what she was doing, other than the fact that being defiant, in one way or other, was feeling rather good right now. She was hardly a quiet individual, and if Hermione Granger had an opinion to give, she usually expected someone to listen to it, rather she deserved to be giving it or not. Living in the quiet solitude she had enforced on herself had gotten to her more than she had thought it would.

"But really, thinking about it, why should you be able to bully me out of here? I wasn't bothering you, you could walk out just as well as I could." She tilted her chin up defensively, trying to ignore the shivers of cold worry the dark look in his glare was giving her. 'You've seen much worse than him, 'Mione,' she reminded herself.

"You impertinent-" He started to hiss out, fury obviously the reigning feature on his face.

"You really do like that word, don't you." She interrupted, feeling a jolt of adrenaline at the simple pure danger that nearly wafted off of him. She didn't move when he stepped towards her, but her entire body twitched, her eyes wide and staring at him with all the determination she had. "I was just- just sitting here. I didn't even know you were here, so you could be just a bit more polite, you know. It's not like I wanted to be here!"

Anger made way for a scoffing look, and she found herself bristling under his mocking look. "You poor darling," he all but drawled, half-lidded green eyes boring into hers, "Do let me pity and care for you, as these big bad mean wizards have trapped you against your will in this horrible pit of despair."

He stepped forward again, his over-dramatic statement whispered in an all-too compassionate voice. If she had closed her eyes, it really would have seemed like an honest statement, but the look on his face erased any of that possibility from reality instantly.

Feeling embarrassed and stripped dry by his mere presence, Hermione scowled, fumbling for a response as he loomed over her. She was cursing herself as nothing came to mind, and she was stuck standing there looking up at him. She must have looked like a half-wit, anger obvious in her stance, and yet she was standing there looking up at him as if she were brain-dead.

"Get out." This was spoken in the very same tone, and it sent a shiver of goose bumps through her arms.

"You're horrible." She accused, but even she could hear how childish that sounded. She would have winced if she didn't think it would make her look worse in this situation. As it was, it only made that horrid smirk on his face widen.

"So I've been told."

Huffing quietly, Hermione simply conceded her defeat, turning and walking angrily out of the dormitory. She walked straight forward, not slowing or stopping as she rounded the corner, and certainly not turning back. Which, really, was a good thing. The confusion that would have enveloped her if she saw the intrigued and amused gaze that followed her retreating back would have been just one more emotion to twirl around in the turmoil of her mind.

* * *

Godric looked up at the door for what seemed like the millionth time that morning, and Salazar couldn't help letting out a snort of annoyance. His friend gave him a bright smile and shrugged his shoulders."It's just unusual that she wouldn't appear for breakfast to at least grab something." He looked back down to the delicate process of spreading cream cheese on the piece of toast in his hands. He didn't miss the smug look on his friend's face, however. 

"You didn't say anything to her, did you?"

"Are you insinuating I would waste my own time to hunt down that chit of a girl simply to say a few mean words?"

Godric seemed to muse on that, and then he grinned. "Certainly not, old friend."

A smug look hardly had the time to cross Salazar's features.

"I do however think you would take advantage of the situation if such a meeting were to incidentally occur."

This, of course, hit just a little too close to home. Salazar shot him a derogatory look, standing up from the table in a silent shuffle of robes and stalking away without another word to him.

Rowena frowned slightly as the edge of his robes disappeared around the door of the great hall, recognizing one of his black moods instantly. "It seems something really did happen, doesn't it? It normally takes longer for you to get him into such a huff."

"Should I go check on the dear?" Came Helga's worried voice, her eyes wide and doe-like with worry. "She really has seemed rather frail the past few days."

"Allow me. It would be a pity if you two were unable to finish your breakfast." Godric stood up with a gentlemanly smile, bowing his way away from the table.

A chuckle passed through Rowena's lips as he hurried off, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Hypocrite." She murmured, reaching across the table to filch his untouched toast, and biting into it with relish.

* * *

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as the library door creaked open, letting in a clear and happy tune of whistling. She stuck her head around a shelf, feeling dreadfully inconvenienced by the appearance of someone else. 

'At the very least I know it isn't that horrible man,' she thought to herself, knowing that such a melodious enjoyment could never be coming from a man like Slytherin. Just the thought of him made her scowl, and it was this unpleasant face that Godric was faced with as he picked her out from among the stacks of books.

"Such an unhappy face so early into a bright and clear morning, my dear! I do believe that the dust is getting to you. Perhaps a walk will do you good?"

Godric's good mood seemed contagious, but Hermione faltered, smiling a little at him. "I'd rather not, I really do-"

"Ah-ah! I won't take no for an answer." He practically swept over to her, catching her hand in his and placing it on his forearm. After giving her one of his beaming full-teeth smiles, he promptly walked them off and out the door. Despite a few muttered complaints, Hermione found herself being dragged through the hallways, and she eventually gave up and stopped fighting, letting a grin settle on her face as she walked by his side, wondering where he was taking her.

Despite her earlier reluctance, she found herself enjoying the not-quite-silent calm around them. He had started whistling again, and his arm was warm underneath her palm. Their path had eventually taken them out of the castle, and the sun and slight breeze felt better than she ever imagined it could. The grounds were largely the same as she remembered. No quidditch pitch, but she could hardly find that a loss, really. She never did find the sport all that interesting anyways, and the lawn of the castle looked so lovely, with all that rolling green around them.

She found herself humming along with the catching tune Godric had been humming, and the stress from the past few days just seemed to roll off her shoulders as they finally settled along the edge of the lake.

They really were silent for a few minutes then, and she found herself staring contemplatively across the waters. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she jumped when Godric started talking, and she flushed a bit in embarrassment."I heard from the grapevine that Salazar has been less than pleasant to you." He said lightly, looking at her with a warm brown gaze.

Hermione giggled, not looking at him. "The ever so long grapevine of, oh, three people?"

"It's much more challenging than one would think." He returned loftily, examining his nails with a joking haughtiness.

"I can only imagine." A silence passed by them again, leaving her wondering if he was going to press her for information. It didn't seem he was.

"It really isn't anything to worry about." She found herself saying despite herself. "He was just being his normal ornery self, I suppose. I shouldn't have been there anyways."

Her companion chuckled softly. "He isn't really that bad of a fellow. I suppose you could say he's simply not used to change."

Hermione flushed as he spoke, remembering that they were friends, despite whatever fights she had seen them in. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No offense taken, my dear. " He gave her another disarming smile, and she wondered idly if his cheeks ever hurt from all the happiness he always seem to exert through his facial expressions.

"It's hard to give a chance to a person who is being hardly cordial to you, after all. I don't think he dislikes you all that much, actually."

Hermione couldn't help the snort that worked its way out of her, and she shot Godric an unbelieving glance. "Mm, yeah, I can just feel the friendly intent just flying towards me when he's around."

She smiled as he laughed. It was a very nice laugh.

"I hold true to my statement." He finally said, and she bit her lip at the funny gleam in his eye, then shook her head.

"I really do need to be getting back. . . I'll never figure anything out just sitting here." She stood up, giving him a thankful smile. "It really was pleasant, thank you."

"Just remember to take a break every now and again. You'll drive yourself mad if you coop yourself up in a book all day." He stood with her, holding his arm out. He obviously intended to escort her back to the castle.

"You sound entirely too much like a friend of mine." Hermione admonished with an affectionate smile, enjoying the feel of his sleeve as she laced her arm into his.


End file.
